


the next six minutes

by Kartoffelwald



Category: 91 Days (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Bromance, Brothers, Character Death, Confusion, Delusions, Gen, back story sort of, ep 10 spoilers, no other names are mentioned but corteo's, tribute to corteo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-16 08:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8095846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kartoffelwald/pseuds/Kartoffelwald
Summary: This is what happens in the next six minutes.Corteo gets up from chair and he sees the mess on his chest. I don't think the stain would come out. We need to buy a new shirt too.





	

The gun was heavy in his hands. He felt cold. Not the cold that winter bestows. That kind of cold could be remedied with coats and hot cocoas. He felt cold. It was numbing. There was a blackhole in the center of his chest. He was waiting. He was waiting for something. Something? Someone? He was waiting. The tears do not come, instead on his face was the same expressionless mask he had been sporting for twelve weeks now. Wait for me. Wait for me. Why did you come back? Brother? 

He was going to burn them all to the ground. The flames would lick every inch of their bodies and he would make them scream. And maybe it would melt the ice imprisoning his soul. If not, he had this gun. It would not be the first time they shared something. The mug. He had one, but there must be two sitting on the cupboard now. He hadn't liked that mug. But it was the only mug he had ever owned. He wished Corteo had gotten him a new one to.

 

Hey, let's go buy a new mug. Maybe a couple of more pots. And I think I'd like to taste the very first soup you prepared us again. Hey.

 

Corteo gets up from chair and he sees the mess on his chest. I don't think the stain would come out. We need to buy a new shirt too.

 

Corteo gets up from the chair and punches him right in the face. That hurt, you idiot. 

 

Corteo gets up and he falls to his knees and  he cries. Except he doesn't. Except he doesn't.

 

Corteo...Corteo... He... ???

 

Corteo's breathing is uneven, like he was having a bad dream. This was a bad dream. You blink and he was still on the chair. He was not breathing. Face devoid of emotion and body turning cold. Is it the same cold in your chest? Probably not. He looks peaceful and there is only turmoil in you head. The creases on his forehead are finally gone and you are left gazing at his perfect stillness. 

 

 Corteo gets up from the chair because he isn't dead and you hadn't just killed him with the very gun your sworn enemy had given you.

 

Hey, you should ask me again. We could start all over, right? The two of us. 

 

The gun is heavy in his hands. And in some other world it was not Corteo. 

 

The gun is heavy in his hands and in some other world, he hadn't pulled the trigger. He wasn't in that room and there was blood seeping through his shirt. 

 

The gun was heavy in his hands, but when he looks down there was no gun and he was running through the forest. He hears a bang and he falls.

 

The gun was heavy in his hands, but when he looks down there was no gun and he was standing in the middle of a crowded street. He was seven years old and he had lost sight of his father, mother, and baby brother. Where have you gone? Why am I not with you? He wanted to cry so the tears fall. Hey, what's wrong? Are you lost? You look up and there is a boy with sun-kissed skin wearing crooked glass several sizes too big looking down on you with a gentle smile. Hey, what's wrong? Are you lost? Don't cry. I'll stay with you until your family finds you again, okay? So don't cry.  

 

The gun is heavy in your hand and you shoot him one more time so there are only bullets enough for all of them, then finally you.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this on my phone. In twenty minutes. Please don't expect something great. I just needed to get this out. Fucked me up so bad... my poor child.


End file.
